A Deal with Demakis

Her honey-gold hair glinted in the low lights, her wide mouth open like a fish.

Her white T-shirt couldn’t hide the outline of her small breasts. A plastic watch with a big dial in the shape of a skull covered most of her wrist. A thoroughly distracting strip of her back was exposed by the scrunched-up top, above denim shorts. Delicate calves and even more delicate feet topped with toes painted black completed the picture.

Even while telling himself that he should just walk away, he stood rooted to the spot.

He usually paid very little attention to the women he slept with. What he wanted, he took and got the distraction out of the way. Because that’s all anything a woman ever had been to him. Something to take the edge off the grueling hours, or the pace he had set himself to succeed.

Ms. Nelson, on the other hand, perplexed, irritated and downright annoyed him with her mere existence. There was such a mix of innocence and calculation about her that he found mesmerizing. He smiled, remembering her confusion, her beautiful blue eyes widened, her breath hitching in and out uncomfortably, when he had leaned toward her in the car.

Noticing a page peeking from under her arms, he leaned over her and pulled the rolled-up magazine.

His blood slowed in his veins to a sluggish pace as he breathed in that scent of her. Vanilla, that’s what she smelled of. Simple yet fascinating, like her.

He straightened the magazine and looked at the article she had been reading. How To Use Sex to Get Your Man Back.

So the little minx did want that parasite back. Apparently, being called a selfish bitch wasn’t enough of a deterrent for her. Displeasure and a relentless curiosity vied within him. What kind of a woman worried about an ex who turned his back on her, a friend who manipulated her and yet faced Nikos down when he had cornered her?

Shaking his head, he tried to stem the flow of resentment coursing through him. Because that’s what it had to be. Ms. Nelson’s effervescent outlook toward life and her sheer naïveté were beginning to grate on him. The sooner he got her out of his life and back to her I’m-all-that-is-love-manipulate-me-all-you-want existence, the better.

Muttering a curse, he turned around to leave when a sleepy moan rumbled from the bed. Still hunched tight, she scooted a little more over the edge. With a quick movement, Nikos caught her just as she would have toppled off the bed.

He ended up on his knees next to the bed, her slender body cradled on his forearms. Blue eyes flew open, terror cycling through them.

Before he could blink, she squirmed in his hold, throwing punches and kicking her legs. He turned his face just at the right time, and her punch landed on his jaw. His teeth rattled in his mouth. Grunting at the pain shooting up his jaw, he threw her onto the bed none too gently.

She rolled over to the other side, and stared up at him, her eyes wide and full of shock. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think?” he shouted back, running a hand over his jaw. “I should have let you fall. The bump would have given you some much-needed sense.”

Theos, but the woman could throw a mean punch. If he hadn’t turned he would have had a severely displaced nose.

She scooted to her knees on the other side, her movements wary and tight, her mouth pinched. “I’m sorry. I just acted on reflex.”

Running a finger over his jaw, he looked at her and curbed his anger. “Would you like to explain, Ms. Nelson?”

Her hair stood up at awkward angles. Moving as though in slow motion, she got off the bed, walked around it and stopped at a good distance from him.

Her gaze was set on his jaw, her lips trembling. “I’m fine,” he said, cringing at the thought that she might cry. He sat down on the bed and waved toward the empty spot. “Sit down.”

Remaining silent, she slid down onto the edge of the bed, leaving as much distance as possible between them. And it finally struck him. All the times she had scrunched tight when he came near. Even now her slender frame was coiled with tension. For some reason, the thought filled him with a cold anger.

“You’re afraid of me.”

Her silence rang around them.

He shoved away the questions and, of all the strangest things, the dent to his ego, aside. He might not like her but the fear in her eyes, it had been real. “I know that you think me a heartless bastard, and you are right, but I would never lay a finger on you.”

She met his gaze finally. “I think I know that.”

“Well, that’s good, then.” This time, he couldn’t keep the sarcasm out.

She grimaced, and took a deep breath. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right. I know that you won’t harm me, Nikos, at least not physically,” she added, just to annoy him, he was sure. “And it’s not your intentions I’m scared of but...” Pink flooded her cheeks “But your... I mean...”